


Crazed Scientist

by avesatanes



Category: Rick and Morty
Genre: Angst, Cussing, Family Bonding, Fluff, I Don't Even Know, I have no idea, Implied Relationships, Incest, Multi, Pre Season 3, Rick randomly speaks spanish sometimes, Stalking, Sugestive Themes, Too Many Memories, lying, sensitive topics, so fluff, trigger warning
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-28
Updated: 2017-09-02
Packaged: 2018-12-07 22:31:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 2,751
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11633268
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/avesatanes/pseuds/avesatanes
Summary: Rick had been launched into a complicated circumstance. He went from being single with some space cops on his ass to being married in Las Vegas to a woman by the name of "Diane". Although there was a certain reason to it.*I heard that you like the bad girls honey, is that true?* ~Lana Del ReyOneshots of Rick's memories that he keeps close to his cold heart





	1. All Through the Night

**Author's Note:**

> Translation for Rick's spanish is in bold ; )

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Introduction

 

"Fuck." His eyes flew open.

Rick had been launched into a complicated circumstance. He went from being single with some space cops on his ass to being married in Las Vegas to a woman by the name of "Diane". Although there was a certain reason to it.

Diane was a criminal of the galactic federation as well but for a different reason other than murder. There had been many galactic drugs she had been caught selling. But the day she was sent to prison wasn't one of those days she had gotten away with it. And there was no better clarification for selling it other than gaining money, money, and money. She was sent to prison but was on bail for $635,223 which was actually $363,364 in Earth dollars.

Rick attempted to pay for the rewarded bail but was turned down of the offer because of being a convicted felon himself. Unless he was the woman's husband. Yes. He admitted that the decree was stupid and wouldn't be aloud on Earth. But at least the plan was unimpaired. So he had gotten the paperwork, paid for bail, then got hitched. He tried to feel nothing for the girl but couldn't assist the fact that she was something absolutely beautiful to look at.

Her hair that had pale blonde strands woven in between the brown ones would always fall over her shoulders perfectly.

He puzzled over the thought of if her real hair color was brown or actually blonde or maybe something else.

Her skin was pale with freckles that camouflaged her cheeks and eyes were green. Her sexy, natural, pink, downturned lips sometimes made her look like as if she was shooting daggers at him but when she did smile, it lit up his whole world.

So now. Late at night. He laid in the bed of their hotel.

She's trying to sleep.

But he has already given up.

 _'Jeez, it's too early for this,'_ She thought.

"No puedo dormir." He shrugs.  
**("I can't sleep")**

"What?" She quirks.

"I can't sleep." He gyrates to his side to pick up his flask from the nearby table.

He swishes the liquid around, slightly forgetting what was in it. Alcohol obviously. But what type? He brings it to his chapped lips and takes a long swig. The familiar taste of lemon met his tongue. Burning down his throat. It's like Planet D-4459 ripped off some brand of white whine.

"You speak spanish?"

What now was a simple conversation in bed would blossom into Rick Sanchez being a crazed scientist while going on adventures with his awkward grandson.


	2. Every Little Thing She Does is Magic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rick meets Diane

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Tonight's the fuckin night! Season 3, motherfuckers! Who's pumped as fuck?!

 

Shaking it once the flask was vacant, he pitched it to the side. He was conscious that there was nothing left inside of it. But he desired to get every last drop.

This topic of the two's convo; her interrogating if he knew spanish, her inquiring where exactly he was from had sparked a feeling deep inside of him.

Rick remembered the first time he met Diane. It was like wanting to try a cigarette. It was like smoking one. It was like dying from one.

You get curious. It's the earliest phase. Like when you were a kid and had clasped the 'use to be alight but was now burnt' bud from the astray of your mom's or dad's. You held it in between your fingers to just feel how it felt to clench one into your hand.

When you were a teen, your "friends" had pushed you to it. You had said _'no'_ before. It was always something that was told to stay away from. But one couldn't hurt. So you got a hold of the offer. Taking it in between your fingers, you were conscious of the familiar feeling of it. You placed it into your mouth, sucked inward as you lit it, held the smoke in your mouth, blew it into your lungs, and out through your nose. The toxic smell. Even the taste of it all was enough for a one time thing. But you kept going back.

Now you take a drink of your last breath. Because the cancerous stick took over you.

That's exactly what Diane was. Something innocent at first, then something addicting, lastly, something that could end you.

Rick had fallen right into the trap.

He takes a seat on one of the bar stools. Hanging fire for someone of business. He taps his foot impatiently. Stares at his wristwatch every minute.

"Drink?" A woman squeaks.

She slams a beer onto the black marble counter.

Rick looks up to the sound of the bottle hitting the surface in front of him. He glances at the soft and sweet voice. Like syrup pouring on pancakes.

The woman who started this all. Diane. Her hair is pulled back but not in a ponytail. She has a smirk on her face. She's wearing a baby pink, leather pencil skirt and a long sleeved, see through top.

Very visible that he's able to see the black bra she's modeling. He doesn't say anything. Grips the beer in his hand. He holds it up to his lips. Takes a small swig.

"That'll be 6 bucks. You're not gonna pay me first?" She queries.

Thinking he's not gonna pay. Will just decamp from the bar with her night job money. But he does pay. He sits up from the bar stool a bit to stretch his hand into his back pocket. Pulling out a Lincoln and a Washington from his wallet, he passes the bills to her.

"Rick Sanchez."

Rick turns around. He Recognizes the voice.

"Erick." Rick argues his name back.

Erick finds a seat next to Rick.

"You got my parts?" He snorts.

By now, Diane is already assisting other customers. Away from the conversation at hand.

"You got my cash?" Erick asks.

"I got i-i-it, ok?" Rick asks.

He tows out the sizable stacks of money from his lab coat.

Passes it to Erick.

He hands over the bag of portal gun parts to Rick.

He's upright. Begins walking towards the exit. He's almost there. But freezes when he overhears the sound of an Akdal Ghost tr-01's trigger being pulled. At the speed of light, he whirls around to Erick who is grasping onto the firearm. The heap of dough has been dropped to the ground.

He has a displeased look on his face.

Rick holds both of his hands up. His eyes are sight seeing to where the gun is pointing at him. Directly at his skull.

"What are you doing?" He grimaces out.

With his free hand, Erick points at the bag on the floor.

"There isn't enough money in there. I told you that this wasn't gonna be no kid stuff." He blusters.

He really pulls the trigger this time.

Rick's whole life flashes before his eyes. His heart is beating out of his chest. It's almost like the scene is happening in slow motion. The bullet is getting closer. And closer. He closes his eyes. Because this is it. He winces when he feels pressure on his body. It doesn't hurt. Which is surprising.

The sound of shrieking. Footsteps of people running is heard.

The sound of the gunfire rings in Rick's head. He falls to the ground.

Fading in and out of consciousness.


	3. Private Eyes

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rick meets Diane part 2

  
** Yeah. She's smiling. But don't let that fool you. Look into her eyes. She's breaking inside. **

* * *

He sensed a feeling like cotton in his mouth as he sat tight for the unpigmented light, presenting heaven. Or was it going to be red, presenting the cold abyss which was hell? Most likely. He stood by for the consciousness of his soul lifting. Instead of pain, there was a sizzling, aggravating sensation in his right arm.

As Rick lays there on the bar counter, his surroundings going from dim to a blaze as he's thinking _'This is it.'_

He does a quick mental life scan as he looks for any impression of people who had lost their lives and came back to it. None of that resulted. Rick wiggles his toes, then his ankles. So he wasn't dying, and he wasn't paralyzed. He hears screams all around him as he furrows his eyebrows from the sudden ache shooting up his upper arm. He still detects the dryness in his mouth.

The voices that he couldn't hear before, that was muffled, was now clear.

"I'm calling 911." A woman begins lifting herself from the floor.

The familiar, sweetened voice from earlier. Diane.

"No." He snaps and grabs her wrist.

She turns her attention to him. This is the first time she has ever made out his voice. The rough voice like scraping of metal.

"You're awake."

"Don't call anyone." He discharges her wrist from his grasp.

"I don't understand." She exhales.

"Just don't."

Because he is a criminal. He's terminated so many people and he knows that. But he can't tell her that because he doesn't trust her yet. Or at least for now.

"Remove the bullet."

If it wasn't for the pained arm, he would've been hovering over her by now.

"I already did."

He gazes at his right bicep which is covered with gauze. Most likely stitched up. He speculates as to why the slug has entered his arm. Not his head.

"Mind t-telling me exactly what happened?" He rolls his eyes, irritated.


	4. The Beach

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Rick has a crush.  
> 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The title is a reference to "The Neighbourhood". Which I think the song is accurate for this chapter. Be free to listen to it while reading this : )

  
**"I'm on the hunt for who I've not yet become" ~Anonymous**

* * *

His brain, his stupid fucking brain wasn't focusing on what was important which was arranging the parts to his portal gun. Instead, he couldn't get the brunette-strawberry blonde out of his head.

Not at any time was Rick under the impression of liking Diane. During his 'work', he always tried to keep her mined deep inside his intellect. But the impression of her always found its way back.

Thinking of her would lead to a rush of adrenaline.

The same feeling he had back in middle school when he had battered the kid who kept calling him a nerd for liking science. He wants to impress her, and he doesn't want to creep her out or make her think that he's a loser. He started to react and feel unlike himself in her presence every time he would go to the bar she worked at. He stops his train of thought to discover he's been talking to himself because of this girl. He slams the screwdriver on his desk. The one he's been gripping so tightly in his hand which was red at the moment. He pulls out his phone from the lab coat he's wearing and starts to dial a series of numbers but stops himself. He felt around the lab jacket for a block of bonding paper that was given to him earlier that day. Patting himself down, he remembers where he kept hold of it in his other pocket. He pulls out the paper and reads the number as he dials it in the phone. He presses call and could apprehend the strong batter of his heart.

Hoping she couldn't hear it from one side to the other of the phone. The phone rings 3 times before she picks up.

"Who is this?" She mumbles.

"Diane."

"Rick." She begins. "It's 2am in the morning. You know I have work tomorrow."

"I know. I'm sorry. I promise I-I'll bring by some coffee, ok? But there's s-something that I need to g-get off my chest." He's standing at this point as he shuffles his foot at a pebble on the ground.

Unsure of how to put the following sentence into words.

"Ok."

"I like you and I-I-I don't know why. I-I don't know how a-and I-I hope you know when I-I mean like, I don't mean it in a-a friend way." He wills his foot from tapping nervously.

She's silent.

He's afraid that she doesn't feel the same way.

"Rick?" She says out loud.

"Yes?"

"I like you too."


	5. Afraid

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alcohol/Abuse

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The title "Afraid" is another TNBH reference. Can you tell that I love them yet? Also I know that the song is about an insecurity and not alcoholism but the certain line "When I wake up, I'm afraid somebody else might take my place" has me getting creative because when you're hammered, you're a whole other person than yourself.
> 
> *got emotional at the end of the new episode but started wheezing when Rick said Noob Noob. Fuck you, Rick

 

Abuse/Alcoholism was something he never had the observation of.

Until years later.

Rick had no explanation to result in chugging down a bottle of **Bud Light** 24/7 because nothing cataclysmic happened to him. He was never beaten.

His parents not once were in a separation. However, Diane was the one who had sunken in the habit of guzzling down a bottle of **Fireball** first.

She went through it all. This whole occurrence starts after she gets out of galactic prison. After her and Rick fake their wedding. After he pronounces "I like you"; words that were stuck at the tip of his tongue, unable to get out.

After he says "I love you". After they make love for the first time.

Him finding out starts with a phone call. A certain phone call from her boss.

 _"Alexander, I really think you should calm down."_ was a sentence spoken from a woman in a black and white forlorn romantic film arguing with her boyfriend. Very literal for the condition Rick was going to have to take charge of in a couple of minutes.

He gapes at the T.V. as the man who was probably entitled 'Alexander', looked displeased.

The movie was interrupted by a maddening ring of a vintage antique candlestick cell that somehow still operated.

The phone was granted the right of continuing it's ringing fit because this wasn't Rick's phone.

It would be rude, right? Also the movie was getting good.

Or it was possible that it would be rude to not answer it?

Maybe it was an important call. Diane wouldn't like it to be discharged. Maybe it was a predicament. Maybe something happened to her.

As that certain thought runs through his head, his hand shoots towards the phone.

Also, 'The movie wasn't all that great'. He views while picking up the handset of the telephone.

He places it up to his ear. Doesn't bother to speak first. He waits for a voice to.

"Is this the Perez residence?" A voice begins.

"Sanchez now." says, Rick.

"Ah. Absolutely. I'm guesstimating that this is Diane's husband on the phone."

Rick can hear the shuffling of the phone.

He isn't aware of the condition that Diane is in.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The name "Alexander" is such a simple name. But I kept thinking of Alexander Hamilton when typing it in.


	6. Alphabet Boy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Alcohol/Abuse 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> @ title. Melanie Martinez doesn't work with Rick and Morty but whatevs. I love her.

The room. _Their_ room.

Sat a studio decored frame. Presenting that frame was a blank sheet of paper. On that paper were three pictures.

Picture number one was of Rick's bloodstained sleeve from when he was shot at the bar but was nursed by Diane; where they meet.

Blood smudges the side of his prussian blue long sleeved shirt.

Picture number two was of her; on their wedding day. The berry wreath, bridal halo, flower crown is placed onto her messy but somehow straightened jet-black wig she decides to wear from getting recognized. It blocks her face. It's hard to tell if she's fake smiling at the fake covenants on the sheet of paper she's clasping or if she's showing her real feelings with a frown on her face.

The modest halter white/ivory lace mermaid wedding gown falls over her perfectly.

He isn't present - in the picture - because he finds them intolerable. 

Picture number three - was of him clutching the keys to a house; where they live now. The two story house looking like it would be in a family sitcom, sat behind him. All of the pictures were cut into hearts with labels in some calligraphy font that meant something. Despite them being strangers at first. Meeting at an awful time.

. . . Their scandalous plan.

Her being an alcoholic and needing his help.

*They still love each other.*

Yet she _was_ sitting on the ground.

The glass that _protected_ the frame was broken. Pictures of memories were splayed across the floor. She stares at her shaky hands.

The hands that have small glass particles in them. The hands that had ripped up the pictures.

_*Do they really?*_

She furrows her eyebrows. She tries to tightly close her baby greens when the tears escape down her cheeks.

When footsteps are heard, she faces the other side of the room.

She gets a glimpse of him from her peripheral vision.

His face is as vacant as a guy with no face at all.

"Life's uh, one big bore, right?" He laughs at her.

Not because the situation is funny. It's the complete opposite.

Because he can't believe how crazy or drunk she has to be to wreck something she created.

He ogles at the glass missing from the frame. The glass on the floor. Her bloody hands.


End file.
